Best Bungling Poems
It was a time when we were troubled
Work shifts had to be doubled
We didn’t earn enough to take a wife
We protested a worthless war
Cried over the Ohio four
Watched newscasts full of strife
Our innocence had died
Our President had lied
And … it was the best time of my life
Our hair, we didn’t cut
Free love, cost us too much
We separated seeds with a broken kitchen knife
We hitchhiked to Yasgurs’ farm
Got tattoos on our arms
And laughed at the bungling Barney Fife
We were hungry and we were thin
Too young to know it then
But … these were the best times of my life
Now, most of us are gone
Radio stations don’t own a Joplin song
Another obit sends a friend off to the afterlife
My head now holds no hair
Once again, I have no buck to spare
Another worthless war adds to our daily strife
But, as we near the end
I still think of you my friend
And how you shared the best times of my life
Categories:
bungling, friend, history, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Misstep Paradise
by Odin Roark
Like the ocean’s waves repeating themselves,
mistakes love to revisit their beginnings,
gloat about their undertow power,
and patiently prepare the next towering breaker.
As if squawking gulls lining the landfall weren’t enough,
joining the prattle is the wind’s ever-repeatable,
“I told you so” oratory.
With ebb and tide behind them,
anxious errors reach progress once alive,
now but mazes of mischance,
ghost towns replete with obligatory tumbleweeds
scurrying past longevity’s sentinels of roaches and rodents
forever faithful to new arrivals.
Even as stored images of ethereal struggle
stay ensconced in supernatural satellites,
reality’s citadel of dust-caked walls and web-laced doorways
display shattered daguerreotypes,
torn photographs,
corrupted digital projections,
3D wanderings,
and holographic ghosts
of perfection’s folly,
holding fast to historical hubris,
mastery’s habitual bungling of headway.
At one end of actuality’s ghost town,
a dangling speaker bellows forth its ceaseless maxim:
“Misstep Paradise is all that matters,
as living life void of errors is to exist
without learning the monstrous reason for it all.”
Welcome to your personal shadow zone,
mind’s inner kingdom of fortuity,
where infinity’s turn-around sign of truth,
remains your chance to finally learn…
Categories:
bungling, philosophy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Russians are clumsy, a fact that's well known
Mistook a lone beach for the battle zone
Odessa was out of reach
So hit a loo on the beach
I hope there was no one sat on the throne...
Written on 22 May 2022
The bungling Russian navy fired a $5 million dollar misslle at Odessa claiming to hit a military target, it hit a target of high value alright , a toilet on a deserted beach.
Categories:
bungling, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Angel’s songbirds awoke and flung the deal
Anisette chirps, sounds of reels
On that day my soul grew lyric
My heart couldn’t see it
Angels songbirds sing with me
And the harmonies never waiting
The sound singer souls singing
The song craft smiled
Ah, distinctly I was lullabying
And the hand claps never hymning yet rhyming
Death shall bring bass riffs
The sonic songwriting singsong smiths
Angels songbirds sing with me
I crave the lyrical, lyric leaf
From off my chest, my breath
Expressivity - expressivity - expressivity!
Somewhat louder than my debrief
I am shore of my golden voiced leaf
you warned me about the high relief
I crave the song-like, songful soundtrack
I feel my spirit leaving my back
Angels songbirds sing with me
That moment my soul grew analytic
The musical smiled
To warn me about the vibrato
And so you came gently jingling
Of duets that are bungling
Chirping metals yawn iron robins
My passion is the cuckoo lullaby, laugh angel laugh
Once I sat engaged and dancing, fly angel fly
Angels songbirds sing with me
When I thought of the song, sing angel sing
Deep into that darkness scoring, fly angel fly
In a kingdom full of shields, shield angel shield
On that day my soul grew lyric, fly angel fly
I awoke and flung the tenorist, high up to the skies
Much I marveled this overload alto, high angel high
Much I marveled the atonal hymn, sing angel sing
I have dreamed of the tempos, Hallelujah
Angels songbirds sing with me
Deep into that darkness interviewing, Hallelujah
That moment my soul grew singable, come sing with me
overloud alto, high angel high
Marveled the atonal hymn praises above all men, sing angel sing
Angels songbirds sing with me
10/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
10/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Categories:
bungling, analogy, angel, appreciation, bird,
Form:
Lyric
In the faraway kingdom of my imagination;
My land of make believe thrived on one Disney creation.
Join me here; you’ll never spend a more enchanting ev’ning.
Over there is Cendrillon. Step lightly. Hear her singing?
Terrible Lady Tremaine rules missy with the sweet voice;
Loving parents died apart leaving the maid with no choice.
Stepsisters waste their lives here…bungling, fumbling Drisilla
And big-toed Anastasia—so vile; so like their mamá.
Royal orders bid damzels here to heed the regal ball;
Prince Charming’s quest to find a wife would dawn after nightfall.
Grandeur turned the ugly heads of two secretly scheming
To wed the purple crowned prince who would one day be their king.
“Sweep the halls and flight of stairs”, Cendrillon’s stepmother snaps.
“Do the dishes, light the fire, bring us warm robes for our laps;
Wash the windows, dust the chairs, do the laundry, knead the dough.
Finish in time for the ball…find a gown and you can go.”
In my fairy tale castle one couple waltzing caught my eye.
“So this is love”, he was saying as they passed me by.
He swept her off her feet and new happiness stirred me too;
All I was wishing came true. The prince of my dreams is you.
“And they lived happily ever after.”
Caryl Ramsdale
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved.
Rhyme Poetry Form
August 04, 2011
Cendrillon (Cinderella: A Disney Character)
unexpectedly achieves recognition after unjust treatment.
“DISNEY” poetry contest sponsored by Linda-Marie, The Sweetheart of P.S.
~ 1st Place ~
8/15/2011
Categories:
bungling, fantasy, me, me, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
For his fifth birthday, Heathcliff
Received a toy sword and sheath
With bubble mixture inside from
His absent-minded Uncle Keith.
It seemed an ideal gift.
Heathcliff tingled with pride,
Blowing heavenly bubbles
In the lugholes of his relations,
As they beamed with adult adoration
For a child achieving the easily achievable.
But twenty six years on, at sea,
Heathcliff was besieged by pirates
With six foot sabres gleaming
Like stainless steel cutlery.
Alas, our hero's bubble sword
Offered poor protection.
An Uncle's birthday bungling
Had doomed the lad to bloody vivisection.
Categories:
bungling, birthday, satire,
Form:
Free verse
.
The wise
learns lessons
from the art, wisdom,
and even stupidity of others,
But learns
so much more
from the shame and pain
of his own humiliating blunders,
That is,
if from his errors
and bungling, he survives,
bounces back and recovers!
.
Categories:
bungling, philosophy
Form:
Tail-rhyme
Put the pork-n-beans
in a big garbage can
Let the kiddies run wild
til lunchtime,
then try to reign ‘em in
Make the little bed-wetting buggers
play White castle in the sand
Find out who clogged the shower drain
and stopped up the toilet again
The Camp counselor
is looking a little addled,
even more so today
His bungling staff
let another
golden goose opportunity get away
Parents with good money
were willing to pay
extra, to keep their rowdy kids
on an extended two-week stay
But nobody was around answering the phone,
everybody was hammock gone
At Camp Run Amok,
everything is run wrong
Bugle reverie is at five in the morn,
but the cock don’t even crow
at the crack of dawn
Steve and Kelly,
Jared and Sebastian
A most inept staff crew,
who don’t get nothing done
Didn’t put up no transparent policy tents,
too stringent on the press pool rules
Mischief behavior gets praised, no denouncement
They don’t mind being treated like fools
The boss sneaks off every weekend,
tweeting dumb stuff on his cell phone
Today, he was bragging
how he don’t pay taxes like Al Capone
The bad punk rep of Camp Run Amok:
common sense ran home ...
now everything is ran wrong
Welcome to Camp Run Amok,
where everything is in disorderly disarray
The Camp counselor likes it chaotic that way;
with kids running things, having the last say
Categories:
bungling, humor, parody, political, satire,
Form:
Light Verse
Every Christmas season, I hear them,
those folks from the Salvation Army,
their constant ring-a-ling-a-ling-ing
sticking in my brain as I near the entrance
to some big store or another.
Often in a hurry, sometimes knowing
there’s little or no change inside my purse,
I scurry past, avert my eyes,
and walk the farthest from them that I can.
Other times, I stop, hoist my typically large handbag,
and sift through odds and ends,
the proof of my modern, hectic life:
my scribbled-on notes and envelops,
lipsticks that have spilled out from my old cosmetic bag,
movie ticket stubs not yet thrown away, keys receipts, candies.
Fumbling through the mess like a bungling Mrs. Santa,
I finally retrieve my small coin purse,
and relieved, I produce dimes, nickels, quarters,
and perhaps a dollar bill,
for that ever-ringing army of Salvation.
But even in those times I have given something,
I still am left knowing. . .
Can any little something ever be enough?
I reflect;
In too many places on this ever-spinning globe
are far too many people
sadly unfamiliar with the simple nuisance
of sorting through a handbag or a wallet
often filled with coins.
For Tracie-Indigo Dreamweaver's
the GiMmI.. WhAt I wAnT.. wHaT I rEaLlY rEaLlY WaNt..... Poetry Contest
Categories:
bungling, life,
Form:
Free verse
Those Tiny Things
Those tiny things that fly through space
Straight to my bird feeder start to race
And no matter what is their nomenclature
Head right for my newly placed nectar.
But there had been a great big breeze
Blowing through leaves of all the trees
My food for them exists in high demand
On feeder did find it difficult to land.
Maybe patience they must beg and borrow
Return again for more food again tomorrow
And there were some others in front of me
Like wild wasp and bungling bumblebee.
More than anything else I still do dread
A big bunch of ants before me instead
Birds were caught betwixt and between
Due to competition always being so keen.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Categories:
bungling, allegory, analogy, nature,
Form:
Couplet
There’s a monkey tag-team of mo-rons
running things ~ Polly Would Pinocchio style
Dumb and Dumber dolts
got dim a dullard king Dumbo
dunce chair directing
Elephant Man, with the carrot top sage
He’s a veggie dense thinker,
whose airhead leading the buffoon brigade
And it’s a head scratcher
as to why dim low IQ, cowardly lions
are lemming following the fiefdom folly
It’s so chicken-hearted laughable ...
henpecks lip farting,
putting on a helium gas of a show
Cue the fake laughter soundtrack:
It’s American Idle time!
Snooze prime to hear the rally monkey
carnival noise once more
You can bet your two Pence,
this clueless circus is gonna campaign roll
back into Mo’ scowl town
P.T. “Blarney Ruble” Barnum
and his chimpanzee crew of incompetent clowns
are again orangutan offering
their court jester brand of witless protection
Midas minus the safety!
Only “no-money-back” global security guarantee
Dim Supremely silly Windy Poot tiggers ...
so growl inept at stashing hidden tax figures,
are stumbling out of the Keystone Cop clown car
at an imbecilic, cage open pace —
Arrested development cut-rate
Dim piglet pasties with the parrot face, and the carat taste,
are warble wobbling about in bungling, Bozo haste
Following the folly of the stupid arms race
Pinhead ponies love the idiotic art of the coin chase
As the ringleader Mo-Ron McDonald the Clown
tells his simpleton clucks, at the Ivory barn Animal House Farm,
there’s no nuke need to be smartly alarmed
Categories:
bungling, humorous, perspective, satire, word
Form:
Alliteration
Atlanta's Oliver Hardy
so pretentious and somewhat lardy,
had a sidekick,bungling,but thin
both silently,still bring a grin
Tribute to Laurel & Hardy-who proved humour needs no words and does not date
Categories:
bungling, funny, people
Form:
Clerihew
Laminate
Plastic covered up definitions lip with profound mastic.
Layered lamella formed single filed lines separating life from death;
Held onto by paper thin adhesions.
Besides bungling up a perfectly fine bollix,
Laminate single handedly took arms up touching innocency.
Scrolls of past things are looked less upon;
By inclinations vestal eye, seen glimpsing beyond chaste.
Blind alley virtual figment reality innocuously engulfed—
Suppressed complimentary service accepts multiplied donators;
Final offers pickled debacle is utter intrinsic debasement.
One lamination, under God, with liberty and justice; For all…
| Laminate | IrOniC ZiNc 12-13-15 12:59am (ct)
Categories:
bungling, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
A big conclusion by tomorrow I must hurry up and reach.
It's about what I am to ‘do’ with my doggy “boy, Billy ‘Blue’.”
Half-wittingly I just keep vacillating between two notions.
My mind is ‘churning’; my thoughts ‘turning’ like a tsunami.
A bouncy cute but "crazy critter" is making me feel so daft.
'He' may ‘BE’ in control of ‘ME’, a “bungling fur baby’s” Mama.
Do I give him back this Monday? Oh, I need to decide by then.
No ‘napping' for all his ‘yapping,’ but “his eyes” are "so sweet!"
Sept. 25, 2022
for Joseph May's The A's Have It Poetry Contest
(I sure hope I did this right!)
Categories:
bungling, dog,
Form:
Verse
Compared to Bungling Idiots
To my poems pretty soon should be immune
And to receive comments I must impugn
Your delightful mind to become more diligent
Trying to find where party platforms went.
What if I put in thumb pulling out a plumb
Could you make a morsel or maybe crumb
For me to try and eat after learning later
Into your camp thought I was an infiltrator.
Trying to keep Hilary hounds at bay again
While cold outside and want to be let in
Changer wanters exist with their dignity
Needing a check which we can call reality.
Two Presidents in White House at same time
Could that be considered a capital crime?
When in past husband he had been there
With Hilary adding more than a fair share.
Why together your teeth continue to grind
When you want to have much peace of mind
And are old resting in your rocking chair
Don's trumpets are creating quite a scare.
James Thomas Horn
Categories:
bungling, humorous,
Form:
Couplet